


American's Advantage, English Traitors

by MitsukiTheMarauder



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: American Revolution, M/M, Soldier!America, Soldier!England
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-06
Updated: 2012-04-06
Packaged: 2017-11-03 03:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/376708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MitsukiTheMarauder/pseuds/MitsukiTheMarauder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When three redcoats demand to stay at Alfred Jones' family's house, no one's amused, but will something between him and a young English soldier named Arthur? How will they keep it from everyone they love?  How will they stay faithful to their respective sides of the war?</p><p>How will they survive?</p>
            </blockquote>





	American's Advantage, English Traitors

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, now that I've come back to this story after a million years, I've decided to change it up a bit. There will be TWO stories, this one, and a sequel. This one will probably be more angsty than the next one... remember to look at the warnings!  
> Anyway, enjoy for now!
> 
> I don't own Hetalia, to make things clear.

**_Chapter 1: Smiling and Enjoyment_ **

Alfred watched as his family eat in the reflection of the glass in the window, washing the expensive silverware in the metal tin that was used for a very specific reason, to torture him when he did something wrong. His brother, Matthew, had noticed and was smiling sheepishly in apology. He silently thought about how he needed food, not an 'I'm sorry'.

A knock disrupted his father’s reply to his mother on the economy, “Alfred, go get that, please.” The sixteen-year-old mumbled something about how he was practically a slave, then hurriedly got out of the room before either of his parents could comment. He opened the door and recited the words he knew well.

“Good evening, do you need something, gentlemen?” he grinned, a clear fake, and looked at the three men. They all were wearing red coats and carrying guns. Surprise, surprise, more English dudes.

Only one seemed even vaguely interesting, enormous eyebrows, sandy blonde hair, and green eyes that seemed like they were tunnels, full of layers over layers of emotions. Examining him further, he noticed the man (or boy? He couldn’t tell, the guy was too grumpy) was shorter than him. Nice. To his amazement, the interesting one spoke, “We need to stay with you for awhile, if you don’t mind.” Translation: We’re sleeping here, and if you say no we’ll arrest your entire family.

The blue-eyed boy twitched before he smiled, another fake, and stepped aside to let them in. Perfect. More silverware to clean.

He closed the door quietly, and led the soldiers to the dining room where his family resided. Least to say was that they were shocked, and before anyone said anything, he declared, “Mother, father, Mattie, uh… These guys are going to be staying here.” He moved out of the mens way and quickly continued polishing some silver he had ‘accidentally’ forgotten.

“I’ll make some more dinner for you lads. Matthew, show them to the spare bedrooms. Alfred, you can share your bed, can’t you? Wonderful, Sweetie!” …And his mom totally snapped up control. To those about to share their houses with douches, we salute you.

As everyone was getting settled, at some point in time, he and the interesting person (Note to self, get his real name) from earlier were alone. The guy watched him while leaning on the table, and he just continued to polish the fork he was holding. “You’ve been polishing that thing for at least twenty minutes.”

“There was this annoying spot, you see.” He said sarcastically as he turned around to put the fork away, but before he could-

Oh dear Lord above, how’d he do that? This guy was standing right behind him, well, in front of him now, ugh, screw technicalities. Wasn't he standing a rooms length away before? The thing was, he was standing way too close to Alfred. “What’s your name, boy?” Was it just Alfred, or did this guy get even closer to him? Do the English know anything about personal space?

“Alfred Jones…If you must know.”

The soldier nodded, “Your age?”

“Uh… sixteen?” he was starting to feel uncomfortable. Well, at least more than he was before. Do they even know about personal information?  
   
“…You sound kind of uncertain.”

“You’re kind of in my face.”

“Touché. I’m Arthur Kirkland, seventeen. Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand as far as he could with such small space between them. Alfred hesitantly shook it. They stood there for a while, just staring at each other in the eyes, looking for deception of some kind.

It must’ve looked very intimate, holding hands with each other and looking into the others eyes, because when his dad passed with more plates, he coughed discreetly. That made Arthur let go of his hand, blushing, mind you, and fast-walk to what Alfred was pretty sure was the stairs.

 

~*~*~*~

   
            “Move over.”

            “You move, Git!”

            “You’re taking half of the bed up!”

            “Says the fat arse."

            “Did you just call me fat?”

            “Indeed I did.”

            “Why you-“

            “Note that if you kick me out I can arrest you, and if you attempt to murder me –because we both know you could never really do it– we can have you hanged for treason.”

            “Ugh, my plan for murdering you in your sleep when I just met you is absolutely foiled! Curses!”

            Alfred and Arthur were currently whispering furiously at each other in the dark of Matthew and Alfred’s bedroom, sharing the same bed. Oh, Mattie was just lucky this time.

            “Would you both just shut up, please?” Matt asked tiredly, rolling over in his bed and throwing at a pillow in the general direction of the other two. Alfred grunted and threw the pillow back at him, earning a small grumble of how it hit his brother in the face and that the older blonde was an idiot. This went on for a while, two brothers in the epic battle of the pillows, with Arthur joining in once and awhile.

 

~*~*~*~

 

            Arthur took a deep breath; happy he survived a week with these… people. Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Jones were lovely folks who would probably give him the clothes off their backs if he really needed it, and Matthew was a pleasant lad, but Alfred was barely tolerable. Sure, handsome, he would be kidding himself if he said otherwise, with those sea blue eyes and golden-wheat hair and… he mentally cursed himself. A horrible, idiotic, egotistical, nosy, insufferable jerk was what Alfred F. Jones was. At least, Arthur tried to tell himself that during the daily patrols in the near-by town. …Key word there was tried.

            The blonde angrily hammered a poster to a wall that said with large bold red letters at the top: ‘WANTED FOR CRIMES AGAINST THE CROWN’.

 

~*~*~*~

   
Alfred was tending to their plantation’s many horses, leading one of the more stubborn foals to the water of a small stream that he had found about a year ago. It refused to drink, sticking up its nose, as if it was not worthy of the horse’s consumption. “C’mooonnn, Button, both of our mama’s are going to be mad if you don’t drink!” he attempted to coax. The young filly whined and shook her head, like she wouldn’t accept it.

The blue-eyed boy sighed, and knelt down to get some water in a tin bin so the prideful horse could drink some water later.

SPLASH.

Before he even registered somebody pushed him into the flowing water, he was practically drowning. Oh yeah, and about the stream he found… it was pretty deep. Alfred resurfaced and gasped for air, arms flailing around in the air, and the same went for his feet in the water. Arthur was on the shore laughing his ass off in his pretty little dry red coat.

As the elder of the two resorted to small chuckles, Alfred “swam” to the bank, where Arthur generously offered a hand. Alfred took it, and they looked into each others eyes, like when they first met. Alfred could tell Arthur saw his mischievous intentions this time, but before he could pull away, he was tugged right in next to Alfred. Arthur managed to spit out a few curses before they promptly had a splash fight, which, by the way, Alfred won.

They giggled like school girls when they got out of the stream -actually, the duo figured out it fit the description of a miniature river then -  Alfred jokingly shook his head like a dog and Arthur laughed a bit more, quietly this time, like being out of the water made him all stoic again. 

It made Alfred a little sad that Arthur couldn't be like he was in the water all the time, smiling and enjoying the moment.


End file.
